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by edibleflowers



Series: Only God Knows Why [11]
Category: Popslash
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-19
Updated: 2012-09-19
Packaged: 2017-11-14 15:26:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/516810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edibleflowers/pseuds/edibleflowers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Joey and Justin spend a night in.</p>
            </blockquote>





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**Author's Note:**

> Part of the "Only God Knows Why" series, set after the Celebrity tour. Heavy on smut, light on plot.

"Did you bring my-- Thanks, man." Justin accepted the bottle and then scooted forward on the couch, letting Joey settle behind him again.

"What happened?" Joey asked as he uncapped his own beer, handing the bottle opener to Justin afterwards; his eyes were focused on the television, on which the latest episode of _e.r._ was playing.

"You didn't miss anything. Don't worry."

"OK."

Justin leaned back against Joey once more, nestling himself into the vee of Joey's thighs, and gave a soft, contented sigh. "'S nice."

"It is." Joey had one hand on his beer, propped up on the arm of the couch; the other was spread over Justin's stomach, anchoring him in place.

As far back as Joey could remember, Justin had been a snuggler, but no one had ever minded. In the beginning, it had been mostly JC and Chris: JC because he knew him, Chris because the two had bonded instantly and inexplicably. It hadn't taken long for that to spread to all of them, not after months spent living in the same house and even more time when all they had was each other on a foreign continent.

"Think the others are screwing yet?" Justin commented idly, and Joey laughed. Chris and Lance had gone out with JC, who was dying to see this new British singer, but Joey hadn't been in the mood and Justin had been out the night before. If everything was going as usual, though, Joey was sure that Chris and Lance were already groping in a dark corner of the club, and when JC discovered them, he'd lose interest in the singer in favor of returning to someone's house for sex.

It had been like that for a long time now, and Joey thought it was cool, if a little freaky. He supposed that an outsider, seeing the dynamics of their relationships with each other, would probably consider them more than a little fucked up. But it worked for them. And it was nice, too, that the sex wasn't just an on-the-road thing; that it cemented their friendship, that they could do things like this -- have a nice quiet night together, just hanging out and watching television.

 _e.r._ finally ended, and Justin picked up the remote, flicking idly along to see what else was on. Joey's hand had begun to wander; Justin squirmed, mewling a little when Joey's hand found the button to his jeans and tugged it open. "Jo-ey," he muttered.

"Shh, J," Joey muttered, finished his beer and put the bottle down on the side table. All distractions removed, he focused on Justin now, licking at the back of his neck. Justin tasted sweet and clean, like always, of something homey and fresh. He pulled down Justin's zipper, sleeked his fingers inside, and then chuckled into Justin's curls. "Someone's enjoying himself."

"So is someone else." Justin nudged his ass back against Joey's groin, and Joey hissed; he'd been hard for a while, now, the line of his cock hot against his own zipper and Justin's buttocks. Joey pulled at the hem of Justin's shirt, and Justin obediently raised his arms to allow for the garment's removal.

Joey had a thing for Justin's back. He wasn't sure what it was, but he liked the strength of it, the smooth musculature, the way his spine made a deep valley between defined shoulderblades. As his fingers slid back into Justin's boxers to close once again around heated flesh, he put his tongue to the incised groove and Justin shuddered liquidly, leaning forward a little.

"Turn off the TV, J," Joey murmured. Justin did so, tossed the remote at the coffee table, but when he made to turn around, Joey's hand on his hip stopped him. "Stay like this. 'S hot."

"Jesus, it's _so_ fuckin' hot," Justin whispered.

"Tell me about it." Joey leaned back so that he could rub his fingers through Justin's hair and down his back, curving them a little to scratch at the smooth skin. Justin hissed and arched, catlike, into the caress. Joey loved the freckles on Justin's back, especially the large one under his shoulderblade, and when he put his tongue there and then sucked gently at the skin, Justin moaned.

Joey squeezed Justin's cock, just once, savoring the thrill that ran through Justin at that. "Lean forward, J. On the table," he said, and stood as Justin did as he was told, pushing aside magazines and beer bottles before curving his hands around the far edge. "Stay there, baby. I'll be right back."

"Hurry," Justin implored, and the quiver in his voice rocked Joey to his toes. It only took him a moment to find what he needed in the bathroom, and when he came back, his mouth twitched at the sight of Justin -- who hadn't moved, still on his knees, propped up by the coffee table.

"J, man," he chuckled. "You comfortable?"

"Need you," Justin whimpered. Joey swallowed and slid back behind him, sitting down on the couch again and putting the supplies on the table.

"Let's get your jeans off first, huh?" He ran a finger down Justin's spine; Justin groaned, and then stood, shoving his jeans off, kicking them away with jerky motions before kneeling again. Presented with Justin's back, his skin pearlescent in the dim light of the single lamp, muscles clear and rippling beneath the smooth skin, Joey grinned to himself. Then he picked up the lube and warmed some in one hand, spreading it over his fingers until they glistened.

"Ready for me, J?" he murmured. Justin nodded, and Joey drew the fingertips of his dry hand over Justin's back, down past the rows of ribs, the dimples at the small of his back, into the cleft of his buttocks. Then he pressed a moistened finger there, finding the opening easily, pushing up and in.

Justin was hot for it. He pushed down eagerly, whimpering, "More, Joe, please," but they'd done this enough for Joey to know that now was no time to indulge Justin. Instead he let his finger work deep, twisting into deep heat and gripping muscle; his brow furrowed in concentration, his other hand stroking Justin's back, as he worked.

Justin was mewling by the time Joey went on to two fingers, and he ground into them with a hungry sort of need. Joey loved this part almost as much as he loved having it done to him, and it was certainly hotter than fuck to see the sweat glistening on Justin's back, in the curls at his nape, to watch his triceps work as he clutched at the table, arms pushing him forward and back.

"More, more more more," Justin was singing under his breath, so Joey grinned and slipped a third finger into him. He liked the response: Justin's throaty moan filled the air like smoke, and he bent forward and pressed himself to the coffee table, his ass in the air like some sort of offering. "Fucking fuck me, Joe, want you so fucking much," he was pleading now, but Joey was fascinated with the sight of his fingers, bunched together tightly, disappearing into Justin's body in slow and steady thrusts. Every time he hit Justin's prostate, Justin let out a new groan, each one huskier than the last. Joey didn't think he'd ever seen anyone so sensual when he was turned on than Justin.

Then again, JC was pretty hot… and Chris, and-- Lance just had it down with the bedroom voice…

"Jo- _ey_ ," Justin demanded, pushing back hard on Joey's fingers. "Fuck. Me. Now."

Joey had to admit he really was ready to. He hadn't undressed yet, and his cock absolutely ached with hardness inside his jeans. "All right, already," he finally said with a great sigh, and pulled his hand back, grabbing a handful of tissues and wiping his fingers as he stood.

Justin turned his head to watch as Joey undid his jeans, stepping out of them, then pulled off his long-sleeved shirt and added it to the growing pile of clothes. He grabbed a condom, brushing a hand over Justin's back, and Justin grinned at him. "Really want you, Joe."

"Works out, man, 'cause I really want you, too." The evidence of this statement -- Joey's erection -- was stiff against his belly, the head glistening with pre-come, and Joey unrolled the rubber over himself with a hiss for the pressure of it on sensitive skin. Then he knelt behind Justin, fitting their thighs together.

Justin put his head down, forehead on the smooth wood of the coffee table, and gripped the edge of the table almost desperately as Joey pushed forward, sliding in and deep all at once. They moved together easily, comfortably, with the smoothness of longtime lovers. Joey spared a thought for their first time; Justin had wanted Joey to be his first, and Joey had never been able to deny Justin anything. It had been awkward, not entirely pleasant, but then it had worked all at once and, much like he was now, Justin had arched and groaned and mewled, incredibly responsive and unbelievably sexual, and taken Joey over into orgasm before either knew what had happened.

This time, though, Joey wanted it to last. He kept his thrusts slow, watching himself move into Justin, breath caught in his throat as his plump cock disappeared, glistening, into Justin's body. Impatient, Justin ground back, but Joey held firm to his hips and forced him to stay still. Justin's knuckles were white on the coffee table. "Fuck. Fuck, Joey," he was panting, his voice more sensual than any recording would ever capture. Joey leaned forward and licked at his spine, and Justin gave a sharp helpless cry. "Jesus!"

"Love you," Joey heard himself breathe, "love you, baby, love you, J." Joey was the only one who was allowed to use the endearment "baby", and, well aware of the privilege, he reserved it for special moments. This was definitely one of them. He slid a hand around Justin's hip, found the hot length of Justin's erection, and began pumping it in time with his steady thrusts.

"Fuck me fuck me fuck me," Justin was chanting now, and Joey was more than happy to oblige. He could feel it, the surge of sensation at the base of his spine, and he bit his lip to try and prolong it just a little bit more -- but there, no, fuck, it was too late, because Justin was making hot little noises and pushing back hard and fast, and despite himself Joey was coming with an intensity that made his head spin.

His hand continued to work on Justin, slick now; only a few moments later, Justin's back flexed, his buttocks rocking back to force himself completely down on Joey's cock (still mostly hard), and he groaned his climax against the coffee table's unforgiving surface.

Joey slumped back against the couch, slipping out of Justin reluctantly, and Justin slithered to the floor. Still dazed by the force of his orgasm, Joey took a deep breath, slowly pushing to his feet and padding off to the bathroom to clean himself up. When he returned to the familyroom, Justin had pulled himself up to the couch, where he was sprawled like a starfish, skin still pink and his lower lip swollen. Joey knelt next to him, dropping a handful of paper towels under the coffee table, and used the washcloth in his other hand on Justin's chest and between his legs.

"Thanks," Justin mumbled, eyes closed as he wriggled a little.

"You bit your lip," Joey observed.

"Yeah. When I came." Justin sucked his lower lip into his mouth; Joey touched his chin, then leaned down for a soft kiss.

"Poor baby," he murmured. Justin scowled at him, but his eyes, now open, were light.

"So what's on TV?" Justin said at length, and Joey laughed and bent his head to kiss Justin's stomach.

"I have a better idea," he said. "Why don't we go upstairs and forget about TV for the rest of the night?"

"You sweet-talker, you." Justin grinned and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. As they gathered their clothes up, Joey decided that he was very glad he hadn't gone out with the others after all.


End file.
